The Life of Sirrah McCormic
by Keltic Rave
Summary: What happens when our Earth in 2005 AD is attacked by the Necromongers? Original Character POV. Before and during Chronicles of Riddick.
1. Of ships and hostile take overs

_Disclaimer_: The characters from Chronicles of Riddick are not owned by Keltic Rave. She is making no money or profit from this, it is intended for entertainment purposes only. She also doesn't own Deep Impact.

**A/N**. I don't know much about astronomy, but I do know that only about three percent or so of the sky is being watched by astronomers, the rest is just left up to prayers and luck. This is what would happen if there were Necromongers, and we didn't see them.

_Summary_: What happens when our Earth in 2005 A.D. is attacked by the Necromongers?

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The Life of Sirrah McCormic. 

_Ships and hostile take overs._

The Necromongers, a race of people, who have only one faith and one God, the Underverse. They say the comet appears in the sky signaling their approach. What most people don't know is that it doesn't signal, it is the approach. The armada of ships are formed in a cluster which causes gases to form from their ships emissions, the light and water vapors cause the comet like appearance. How do I know all this? The truth? No I'm not a necromonger, at least not yet, but in a few hours who knows what the future may hold. I know like many curious people in the world with telescopes, I looked at the comet and saw the face of death.

My name is Sirrah McCormic, I am nineteen years old and just nine days ago I was outside enjoying the weather when a newscast came on the radio and television informing us of the comet that was speeding towards Earth on a collision course. We had a little over nine days to prepare for the end. Ever seen the movie Deep Impact? Basically people reacted like that, some went to chruch to repent, some went on violent killing sprees, some just sat in shock, some cried, some even got up and went to work the next day.

My choice? I didn't go to work, I didn't kill anyone, after a few tears for my people, and their culture that would be destroyed I stopped crying, didn't go into shock, and sure as hell did not go to church. What is the point of church when life as you know it will end? I feel that in my few short years of living, I have never really believed in God, and going to church for a few hours and repenting, if there really is a God will get me in his good graces. Belief under pressure I feel is not worth anything so instead I stuck true to my beliefs, after talking to my best friend Bobbie, and spending some time with my parents and with my brother. I went hiking. Yes hiking, I love nature, and I live in the country and spending my time just being at peace with nature, well it just felt right to me.

I packed a tent, some food and water, my telescope, a book that I wanted to read, it was the Hobbit by Tolken, a gun for protection and went out to spend some time alone, maybe my parents and brother would follow, maybe they wouldn't, I was not going to force them to spend time with me if they didn't want to so I told them where I was going to be and left to spend the rest of my days at peace.

Well as relative as peace as I could get.

Six days later I looked at our impending doom with my telescope and saw the ships within the comet, phoned my house and left them a message. The eighth day they got my message and today the day that the comet/ship landed I hopped a ride with my brother and went into the city, for the ships had split and had landed in all the major cities of the world. Well landed would be too gentle of a word. They caused a giant explosion that caused the buildings around it in a two hundred block radius to collapse. People all around had gathered after the landings, I don't know what they were thinking. I guess the same as my brother and I. _Cool! It's a spaceship! I wonder what the aliens look like? _Well that's what thoughts were going around in my head. Basically anything that can level that many buildings but still travel through space is probably not very friendly. I was waiting to die, because I had made my peace with God in my own way and had said goodbye to everything I loved.

So here I am, watching as humanoid figures come marching out of the giant space ship. They are killing anyone who poses a threat, mainly the manly men who have guns, though the guns do bugger all to them, they have metal armor on, the police are not trained to handle anything like this, and were disposed of immediately. Slowly people are gathered up and now the soldiers are plodding us towards a park, and surrounding us civilians.

Why didn't I fight? I don't even know how to use a gun since that I didn't learn as a child, and I am Canadian. Why run, I bet when these people are finished they will nuke the planet anyway so it's better to let them do what they want, they are so much more highly advanced then us anyway. What is the worst that can happen? We die?

Two men are striding in armor to the center of the area that we are gathered. I make my way closer, to get a good look at them and lose my brother Damien in the process.

_**(Some of this is taken from the movie in my own words  
describing the scene, and their talking.)**_

One man starts to speak, he is blond, and not build to be a fighter. "In this verse, life is antagonistic to the natural state. Here humans in all their various races, are a spontaneous outbreak, an unguided mistake. Our purpose, is to correct that mistake. Because there is another verse, a verse where life is welcome, cherished." Whispers are starting, people are starting to get restless. I don't see what the problem is, what he says is all true. The man continues on. "A ravishing ever new place, called Underverse. But the road to that verse crosses over the threshold."

The soldiers in the background shout out. "THRESHOLD! TAKE US TO THE THRESHOLD!"

The other man starts to speak. "_What you call **death**_." He seems to be a leader of some sort. All the soldiers are standing at rapt attention.

The other speaker starts up again. "So it is this verse, that must be cleansed of life, so that underverse can populate and prosper."

The leader starts up again. "Look around you, every Necromonger in this hall, every one of the legion vast that just swept aside your defenses in one hour, was once like you. Fought as feebly as you, every Necromonger that lives today is a convert." Convert? What the hell is a convert. I look quizzically at the guards. Ack! That one has _scales_!

The blond speaks up "We all began as something else. It was hard for me to accept too, when I first heard these words. But I changed, I let them take away my pain, just as you will change when you realize that the threshold to the underverse will be crossed only by those who have embraced the Necromonger faith, for those of you who will right now drop to your knees and ask to be purified."

At this, people got angry. A man yelled out. "And betray our own faith!"

The leader slowly starts to walk towards the man, who has stopped right in front of me. Fuck! This is not happening, I don't have faith and if the only way to live is to convert then by the underverse I will! I don't want the scary leader man to come anywhere near me.

"Blasphemy!" The man shouts.

Making up my mind I smack him upside the head speaking. "Idiot, so you are willing to die for a God that has done nothing for you. When was the last time you witnessed a miracle. Seen someone walk on water? Convert water to wine? or some other fucking thing in the Bible, Torah, or whatever?. Go die somewhere else!" I hissed at him.

He turns toward me and sneers. "Go back from whence you came!" I pause to look at the leader, who is shimmering, staring coldly at the man. Uh oh. I back away and say quietly."Your funeral, have fun with finding people to come." I look up and make eye contact with the leader who now seemed to be watching me. Oh fuck, wrong way to steer attention away from yourself Siri. Way to go. I can feel myself pale and back away further.

The man continues on unaffected with my little speech, and the look of hatred in the leaders eyes. "For I can not, will not be converted like the pathetic dogs you are!" With that exclaimation the leader reached the man and shimmered, like a ghost of movement. He reached out and tear's the man's soul from his body while speaking.

"_Then I will take your soul_." The man whose soul was taken, turns around and looking at his soul collapses. I can hear the soul screaming, both a high pitched whine and low humming. It almost seems as if it is falling apart by the second. He shakes it and it disappears in a whoosh.

His soul... I saw a soul, I saw a man pull out a soul of another man. All the swears I come up with are not enough to express the awe, terror and finality of it. _How can...?_

I then hear the ultimatum.

"**_Join him or join me_**."

Without another word I collapse to my knees, the first one to do so and the leader looks at me and smiles before walking towards the exit. Others follow my example. I don't know what to believe anymore. I only know that, _no man _on this planet in my life had the power to tear a man's soul from his body, and that scares the shit out of me.

_Finis chapter one_


	2. Oh, that's what a convert is

_Disclaimer_: The characters from Chronicles of Riddick are not owned by Keltic Rave. She is making no money or profit from this, it is intended for entertainment purposes only. She also doesn't own House Of A Thousand Corpses.

**A/N** Ok, so this chapter _might _have some qualities of a Mary Sue... Hey, no one knows what happens after the lights... go... out... (Sorry wrong movie.) No one know what happens after the people are taken for conversion. It could happen. Heh sorry a little pitch black episode back there.

This is rated mature cause it has depressing themes and swears.

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**_The life of Sirrah McCormic_**

_Chapter 2_

...Oh, that's what a convert is...

My life was normal, I had a home in the country, a dog, two cats, both parents that loved me, and an annoying brother. The white picket fence family, the one in a thousand minority. Well okay maybe the world wasn't that dysfunctional, but still. It was rare to find a home such as ours. The earth while we didn't quite treat her as we should have, bulldozing the rainforest's, making beautiful creatures extinct, it was our sanctuary, our little piece of paradise.

You can not imagine the terror of watching your whole world implode. Your paradise lost.

Two days after the Necromongers pushed aside our measly defenses, the guns, tanks, and even our last resort, the atom bomb. Every single achievement that the human race has ever accomplished was assimilated into an alien culture. A culture that did not follow our beliefs and customs.

The terror of knowing you will never see another butterfly, a rose, your favorite childhood hiding spot, or a lovers retreat again. All gone with one push of a lever. It was a feeling of such hopelessness, helplessness and true clarity that all that you loved and cherished and hated were gone. All the songs, poems, books, the Oceans and Lakes, the highest mountain to the lowest valley. The redwoods of British Columbia and the stunted cacti in the Sahara, such human ingenuity and integrity of the Pyramids of Egypt, Stonehenge, Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the Great wall of China, the World Wars and times of actual Peace all to be forgotten.

All vanished, and with it the spirit of the human race. My heart screamed with the horror of it all. I could feel and taste the broken hearted tears as our world was blown away. An empty hollow in the place of a broken heart shattered by too much witnessed. The people who had not given up, the pockets of resistance, using tactics like hit and run. The animals that had no value, the stealth of the tiger, the playful dolphin, the king of the northern forests the grizzly bear all gone, their consciousness wiped out, they didn't even know what the sound of their impending doom was, all they knew was it scared them.

I cried as it actually hit me. Oh I know I shed a few tears when we had first found out the earth was going to be hit by the comet, but actually watching as your world is torn from you, that is something I would wish upon no one.

A body can only take so many shocks to the system before it shuts down to try and reboot. I saw darkness dance across my vision. My knees buckled and I crumpled to the floor. I did not hear the doors open or the people who were still conscious but numb ordered through the doors, before they closed again, nor did I see my brother collapse at the same time I did, or the people take us to a different room with some others.

My first conscious thought was my arm was numb. The second was that the ground was too hard even for the tent that I had set up in the quarry. I opened my eyes and saw the metal ceiling.

You know how in the movies you always scoff at the females, or even males that freak out when in a difficult situation. Thinking oh if I was ever in this situation I would run down the stairs outside, or don't go into the basement, or why are you stopping for the freaking cat? I know I have always made fun of the bimbos in the movies that did that. Now I feel like an asshole... and a hypocrite. I took one look at the ceiling and started to freak out. Well you would too, if the decorations mirrored house of a thousand corpses just metal though, not flesh and blood.

So here I am, sitting in the middle of I'm guessing the entrance room for the converts. There are six people still passed out my brother is one of them, two are awake just staring at nothing, one other is crying and I am sitting and shivering. I can't get warm, chilled to the bone I guess from shock. The faces of animals and scenery keep flashing through my mind. Along with the planet exploding before it goes grey. I stand on numb legs and walk to my brother, where I slide down sitting again. The loss of a faith that was never mine doesn't bother me, but the loss of a home, that hurts, it makes my chest contract, my head ache. I haven't said a word since I witnessed my home... and don't know when I will again.

Silence was always my way of dealing with arguments. I was never an act out and lash out person, unlike my brother. Besides I don't think I could talk without screaming, mirroring the sound of my heart.

The double metal doors open with a creak. Guards, then some people walk in. I guess some of the potential converts liked to get a bit rough, for the people with their dead eyes and Frankenstein scars on their necks are battered and bruised. A man walks through after, he is one of the ones who had been at the park when we had been talked to about conversion, about the necromonger way.

The five people who were passed out are now being awakened, after being shaken gently by the ones with dead eyes. One comes near my brother and I glare and snarl silently, before shoving my brother awake. He starts, looks around and pales going a sickly green grey. I swallow and look down, as I feel depression overwhelm me again, home lost...I grab my brothers hand for comfort before looking up again. The man from before starts to speak after he sees he has our attention.

"Congratulations, my name is Sabriel, and you have been pre-selected for your abilities. You ten represent the genes of your race that place you above the common breeders and replacement soldiers." I look around, there is no one I recognize except my brother.

There is an Asian woman and man, they had been staring. A Mexican girl with raven curls and dark tanned skin, the crying one. A blond, blue eyed man who had been asleep, two African Americans, one man, one a woman, brown as nuts, dressed in I guess traditional clothing for their region, both had slept. A goth, with white skin, black hair and dark eyes, she had been also sleeping. And a native American man, with hair in a braid that went to the middle of his back, also sleeping.

Then there was my brother, dark auburn hair, olive skin, round glasses, hazel eyes, the six foot five, two hundred pound athletic computer geek who likes karate. A contradiction in itself.

My mom named Lin Lebrennon is five foot seven, has black hair, and green eyes, she is English to the core but amazingly she has olive skin which she passed down to my brother. My father, Gabriel McCormic standing at six foot two has the honest to god red hair and green eyes of the irish with fair skin. And I got a mixture from both my parents. From my dark plum colored hair, shoulder length, my blue grey eyes that I got from my grandfather, and my moms temperament and height with my fathers skin. My brother and I look nothing alike, except for the glasses.

Ablilities, what ablilities? At school I was always the quiet average student. My brother while a bit more loud was the same. Average to the core. And how the hell were we pre chosen?

The man continued on. "You all collapsed when your planet fell. It shows that you have empathy to a certain degree. Some of you may have other ablilities that we value highly. Telekinesis, telepathy, and empathy, are just a few that we have found among similar races. You will be brought forth before the quasi dead to determine your abilities. The more you fight, the worse the damage will be, remember that."

He then turned and walked toward the Mexican girl, tears were still flowing freely down her face. She bowed her head and when he motioned she followed. We all stood to await our fate.

_To be continued._


	3. quasi dead, controlled

_Disclaimer:_ The characters from Chronicles of Riddick are not owned by Keltic Rave. She is making no money or profit from this, it is intended for entertainment purposes only. She also doesn't own Village of the Damned, neither does she own the Borg.

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_**The life of Sirrah McCormic**_

Chapter 3

_Quasi Dead the experience of a life time...Ok Bad pun._

I don't exactly know what I was expecting when the Mexican girl walked out of the quasi dead chamber. Maybe to have the dead eyes and deader soul of the converts, to be crying and begging for death, or completely insane and blabbering about pink monkeys. I didn't know what the quasi dead were, only the parting words the more you fight the worse the damage will be.

What if you just gave in? Did you have to give in or could you fight? If you fought would you die? If you gave in silently and willingly would your head explode? Would little orange bunny rabbits pop up on some moon somewhere and do the salsa? Well OK I didn't think that the rabbits would do the salsa, or be orange for that matter, wow that's an interesting picture. My imagination was working double overtime, thoughts were racing around my head miles per second. The door opened some five minutes later. The Mexican girl stepped out... Wow it's so... freaking anti-climatic. She is staring into space, a lot like the two Asian people were after I woke up.

I am sitting on the ground still, mostly because there are no chairs. The floor is metal, the ceiling is metal with horrific designs, the walls are the same. Who ever designed the place must have loved Dantes' Inferno or maybe he was a serial killer with interior design skills, who always wanted to sculpt. Ok,I have to stop this internal ranting.

One by one they are led into the quasi dead chamber one by one they are lead out. The Asians, Africans, the blue eyed guy, the goth, all of them come back out quiet and staring.

...My brother...

I tense up, they all seem perfectly healthy if a little quiet. Nothing will be wrong with my brother. Five minutes later he walks out...same eyes as the others quiet and stands in with the others. They all mirror each other, backs ramrod straight, their breathing is quiet, no one talks or moves. It is almost as sad as the zombies, yet they are still alive, and he is still my brother in the crowd.

And it hurts, I was expecting him to be different. Why didn't he come over, comfort me, explain away my fears, explain what the quasi dead is? All my life my brother stood beside me. He supported me in my decisions, backed me up, and defended me from bullies, guided me on the right path. He was my older brother, so why would he leave me? Alone?

I walk toward him and freeze as they all turn towards me their movements sycronized. Some weird ballet of contained movement and motion. _Controlled_.

Creepy really fucking creepy.

It's like village of the damned, like the children who are all interconnected or like a borg, one part of a collective. I look at my brother, his eyes just a few minutes before were filled with the horror and hurt that was reflecting in my own eyes. A planet and it's people are gone, nothing more then a desolate planet with no way of supporting human life. His eyes unlike mine are now cold. Not empty like the zombie servants but cold. Deep ice frigid cold. My brother has hazel eyes a mixture of green, amber, and rusty brown. I don't want to know how they made hazel eyes, with warm earthy tones that cold. I don't want to go into that chamber. The Native American enters the door. I am by myself. Alone in the crowd like high school, like always.

One last look towards the group before I back away and go sit in the corner. I am shivering again. The bone chilling ache is back. My chest is tight, my head aches. I want to cry, to scream, to curl up into a little ball and wish it all away. But I do none of that. I sit and stare at my only blood relative.

A man walks out of the chamber, it is not the native American Man. This confuses me, where could he have gone? The zombies might have taken him away, why was he so special? The man, dressed in a black overcoat, black shoes, black gloves... Get the theme here?

He motions me to follow. I can feel my face pale more, my skin paper thin, my mouth is so dry I cannot swallow. I don't want to enter the den of hell, yet I do not want my soul ripped from my body, if I refuse. Bowing my head in acceptance, I risk one more glance hoping for some sign that my brother is in that facade but receive only the cold stare. Turning my head back, my heart hurting for an entirely different reason then a dead planet, or maybe it's just one more straw on the camels back, not knowing if this next experience will break it.

I walk slowlytoward my fate. Or my doom.

_To be continued._


	4. Fight or Not?

_Disclaimer:_ The characters from Chronicles of Riddick are not owned by Keltic Rave. She is making no money or profit from this, it is intended for entertainment purposes only.

A/N I know this is a very short chapter, very short but it adds to the drama of the situation.

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**The life of Sirrah McCormic**

Chapter 4

_Fight or not?_

The chamber was circular, dark, and very depressing. The air was heavy from past experiences like pain and hopelessness. The metallic taste of blood hung in the air, along with the bitter tang of fear and oddly enough the smell of sulfur was also present. All very odd since none of the robots that had exited the very room in which I stood had been injured. _Not true Ashe, think, why didn't the last person leave this room, he could be buried underneath the floorboards. Or he could already be floating outside in the cold dark frozen space. _Still thinking morbid thoughts, I look around the room. Other then the same architecture that decorates every bloody space in the ship there are four booths and a circular platform in the middle. All I know is that I don't want to stand on that space, don't want to know what powers the quasi dead have or learn what made them quasi dead in the first place.

A person enters the room, a stranger. Also one of the autonomic robots that populate the ship. Are they all like this? Are there no free thinking beings still living or does this conversion destroy everything that makes my people unique and human?

Do I want to convert? I am afraid, my entire life I have strived to be different. Not a sheep, not a lamb to the slaughter of fashion and trends. Differently thinking and proud, I am unique. Do I want to give that up? To live a half life, a life of damned subservance and utter banal existance only? To exist not even live life. Do I even have a choice?

The stranger walks up to me. He is larger than me, stronger. He grabs hold of my arm and pulls. My arms strain but it has the same effect as if trying to lift a hundred pounds of lead. Completely nothing and I don't have a choice but to move where he directs me. To the single platform the only place where every fiber of my being does not want to be. My heart slams in my chest and my pulse races, I can taste the metallic taste of fear on the top of my tongue. My breathing quickens and I can feel my pupils dilate. _Don't want to be here. _I think to myself, or more like my mind screams into the silence that surrounds my consciousness. I want to run, to scream and whimper and curl in a little corner. A silent screaming voice within is telling me that this will hurt, that I will most likely wish for death before the end. Shudders wrack my body, I can feel an energy gathering in the room gathering and pulsing and drawing into a whirlwind, one that I am in the center of.

The man slave, dressed in his white robe, and shaved head takes one more look at me and a voice speaks up. Hoarse from long term disuse. "The more you fight the worse the damage will be." He blinks one last time and turns and strides out of the room, white robes stark against the dark silver of ceiling and floor. His footsteps silent on the metal floor.

A moment of crystal clarity engulfs my mind. An epiphany races through my conciousness. Words echo through space and time. _Do I have any choice? _It comes to me silent, deadly and beautiful, telling secrets and revealing lies. For once in my life through all the suffering _I know_ the answer to the question that whirls around in my head.

_...Yes... _

One beautiful word, it sighs, overflows and leaves peace in its wake, understanding crystal clear. I have a choice. I can live, endure the pain, endure the suffering and do things for a faith that will never be my own or I can give in, become what I most fear what I most hate what is the easiest choice should I choose to follow the path well taken. It is my choice and I make it now.


	5. Breaking the mind

_Disclaimer:_ The characters from Chronicles of Riddick are not owned by Keltic Rave. She is making no money or profit from this, it is intended for entertainment purposes only.

A/N wow this is the first story since I have started working at my other job. Bleh!

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**Breaking the mind.**

_Chapter Five._

If anyone had told me a month ago that I would be standing in a room that judged your soul and mind, I would have smiled and nodded and quietly called the people with the white coats and seditives. Now all I can do is wish that all this was a dream, well no not a dream, a horrible nightmare in which I would soon wake from. That I would awake, at home in bed, surrounded by familiar things.

Standing in the middle of the chamber, cold, still in shock and shivering I watch as the door closes leaving me alone with my thoughts and what ever the quasi dead is...are. A mechanical sound starts, grinding down statues lower from the walls showing things. They are draped in a sheer cloth, spider silk yet more sheer. There arew five of the panels... beds? I hear a loud click, echoing though the room, followed by a loud humming.

As if my muscles turn to jelly, bones to lead I fall to my knees, lungs aching, muscles burn with the strain.

Their voices in chorus sound throughout the room, mixtures of many different vocal chords, impossible as there are only five of them, yet the harmony sounds like a hundred.

_"Breaking through the cerebrell cortex." _I can feel them crawling through my mind, digging in through memories, learning my secrets and deepest fears.

_"Get Out" _I whisper in my mind, and I hear it echo through the chamber, as I realise I have also said it out loud. My arms collapse and I curl into a ball, my arms now clasping my head tring to feebly protect my sense of self.

Tears leak through shut eyelids. There is nothing I can do to stop the raping of my mind, my memories.

_Flash_

Around me the quarry where I had grown up. The sight of the white limestone brings a pang of homesickness so accute, tears burn in my eyes. I knew every pocket every crack of stone and pile of rocks. I had bled more then a few times on many a sharp stone. Gone swimming in the fresh water lake, took my frustrations with me when I escaped to it from home.

The memory of it so fresh I can smell the fresh wildflowers, hear the crickets chirp, the bullfrogs, feel the sunlight reflecting from the white limestone. A chill comes over me, I turn around and witness the horrible destruction of my home away from home, what would have happened had I not went to the city on the day the ships landed. Fire and brimstone, ash and darkness it envelopes the land, spreading and eating away from my home. Taking my refuge. I cover my head with my arms knowing I cannot stop what is coming. The fire envelopes me, I feel no heat but a bone searing cold as I am surrounded by darkness.

Emptiness, I feel a piece of self torn away.

_Flash_

The local bookstore, my escape from reality, my favorite place to relax, let the world pass by. Many an evening spent just zoning in the country style chair right next to the fireplace, enjoying a coffee from the local restaurant. Smiling I sit and let myself be encompassed in soft and worn familiar fabric. I turn to look out the window.

_"No, please.." _I feel a desperate panic almost sense of deja vu. The fire, consuming everything in its path, the buildings walls go up, stories of adventure, love, fiction, lost in the blaze. Surrounded by flame, chilled to the bone. Darkness follows.

Hollow, safety ripped away.

_Flash_

Summer one of the many stray animals I have picked up over the years, not just a dog, a faithful companion and best friend, she knew how to truly experience every element, for no rock, leaf, or log would go unexamined; no rustling bush would be overlooked, and even the very air will be inhaled pondered, and noted as being full of valuable information.

She looks up hair on end, hackles raised her home something not right, senses something. Invading and unwelcome. She howls, cannot escape, cannot attack, nor protect. Cowering the last room of the house not in flames, sister smell and presence not right. Chocolate eyes holding such sadness as they disapear in wildfire.

Friendship sundered. Lost.

_Flash_

My parents, brother, my tenth birthday party, a day in the park, at the waterslides, eating hotdogs off the grill. Erupt in ash and burning.

Achingly void. Home lost.

Cannot think, cannot remember, missing, empty. There should be something there, something more. I know I was... I was. What was. They took it away, I cherished it, safety, friendship, self, home, I know the words, know what they stand for, what they are, but I cannot apply them to me, don't remember it was taken away. Removed.

Oh god. I wish I didn't, but I know what the quasi dead are now.


	6. Converted?

_Disclaimer:_ The characters from Chronicles of Riddick are not owned by Keltic Rave. She is making no money or profit from this, it is intended for entertainment purposes only.

A/N cringes and slowly ducks into the room Ok I know everyone has been waiting for this and well ... i donno I just didn't feel the need to write for a while, I wasn't on my computer, I was actually reading books and watching actual TV not reading fanfiction, but you know what I bought the movie COR so now I can pause and rewind and stuff and figure out some more plot for this story. Do I know when it is going to end Ha! I say I have yet to actually finish a story that I started except if it was for a class or a short story then its easy. I am writing as the wind blows no plan as to where this is going.

The life of Sirrah McCormic

_Chapter Six_

...What the hell?...

As the stone like pillars with the quasi dead are raised the door leading to the chamber opens. People enter, but I don't see, I am still trying to get my bearings as the bone searing cold still causes my skin to prickle.

Hands grab both my arms as I am hauled up to stand on my still unsteady feet. Then I am let go just as suddenly, my head is empty as a tightness aches in my chest. My breath hitches as I struggle to contain the sobs in my throat. I know not what I long to cry for but I know that I must let the sadness out for it feels like my heart will shatter.

Someone is standing in front of me. Studying my reaction to the quasi dead? I know him, he was the one who made a speech in the ...park? A flash of green goes through my mind and its gone back to where it came from. The man ...Sabriel? He is still staring. _Don't you know staring is rude? _

I start, that is no way to treat the converter! Even if it is in my head. _Heh yea right... what are you going to do about it? _

Sabriel tilts his head slightly at my small movement. "Awake? Good, not going to have a screaming fit? Alright time to go rest for the night. You will be fine." He guestures to a male who comes closer and slightly bows. 'This is Jason he will show you to your quarters." With that he nods at Jason and walks out the doors.

_Waitaminute!!! Mitch took four times as long _The voice is cut off as I am led away through the doors. Jason, six foot five, three hundred pounds of muscle is walking at a quick pace and I am forced to almost jog to keep up. Down a few hallways but after the second turn I am forced to admit that I a completely turned around. I don't know where I am going and probably won't be able to for a while.

The same design runs through the halls that I go through and I think that its most of the ships design as well. Grey metal and pale lighting no colors or chairs to break up the severity of the colors. Doors with archways, smaller doorways and entrances line the halls. There are a few signs but none of them are in english or any dialect that I am even familar with. Or have seen in passing.

We come upon two guards in full body armor the same color schemes as the walls standing beside a door, steel and carved out of the same artistic talent that made the quasi chamber. Slightly nervous I swallow and look at Jason he just points to the door and crosses his arms or tries to, the corded muscles bunch and he has to stop just short. I slowly walk toward the door, the guards turn and wait. I get to the door and blink then look down at the arms holding both my arms again.

_Oh yea I'm liking this already, armed escort to your quarters I don't think so. _The two guards bring me closer to the door. Jason moves from behind me and pulls a lever that is slightly to the side, artistically hidden in the designwork of the wall. I blink in puzzlement. I open my mouth to point out that there must have been some mistake, this isn't my room, but I am shoved inside the plastic sarcophagus and the door shuts behind me.

It lights up, different colored lights, a strange humming and then there is some sort of mask that encloses on my face. Feeling slightly alarmed here I struggle abit, trying to get out of the plastic coffin. As if sensing my discomfort, a slightly higher whirr and I feel a prick in my neck and a relaxing feeling takes effect._ Son of a bitch they drugged our body!_ I can't even move as a tube slides out of the mask and down my throat and the rest covers my nose and eyes air tight.. I can feel it pumping oxygen into my lungs.. Full body casing closes around me and it seals with a hiss and then I feel warm liquid start to fill up the spaces where my body doesn't mold to the plastic.

Ok not so bad, no horrible disfigurment or pain beond bearing happening I can deal with this, this might be a way to take my pulse or measurements for clothing or it might be a standard medical exam. I can deal it doesn't hurt. _Hey! Miss smartypants where did you think those scars on Mitches neck were from him falling onto a giant fork? Maybe he attacked himself with a hot poker? Twice? Hmmm. _Oh I hadn't thought of that... Why lie though? I would have come peacefully if they had told the truth. This is probably for my own good.

_Oh yea I can see this working out nicely. Listen up girly, those scars on Mitches neck didn't come from cotton, those are puncture wounds and seeing as this coffin had things on approxamatly the same area of your neck yea this is probably going to hurt you ...alot. I am so glad that I can't feel anything in this body of ours. Have fun with this. _Oh shit I don't want to, no must not resist it will hurt more. Oh hell...


End file.
